


Caecius Pentagonal

by IsaiahVirus



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaiahVirus/pseuds/IsaiahVirus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a million ways this could have gone down, and it was only the bad ones that did. Kristopher is the head of the Caecius pentagonal and everything is on the verge of chaos. Maybe it's time to mend his west coast relations and give the Bratva another chance. But first, Flower needs to wake up and be okay. </p><p>That mafia story that I wanted but couldn't find and nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Proper Summary So You Know What You're Getting Into

**Author's Note:**

> Have a warning- swear words and lots of them.   
> Also, I don't know where this is going, it might not go anywhere at all. We'll see.   
> Should check out a story I beta if you haven't already, its "The best thing about being a woman, is the prerogative to have a little fun…" by  
> speedywhippet. Its a ball.

_Its ok, its ok, its ok._ Kristopher repeated to himself as he watched Beau wrap Flowers are in a fresh bandage, how the fuck is flower going to play like this?? As he watched the scabbing wound disappear behind a wall of white, he realized maybe he needed to have a few more allies out here than just the Black Dragon Triad. It’s not like the business couldn't use it.

 

Beau finished wrapping Flower and laid him back on the bed. “He should be fine, but I don’t think he’ll be allowed to play against the Ducks tomorrow.” _Goddammit Beau, why are you always such the bearer of my bad news, your face is too beautiful for that._ Though in retrospect, Kris would come to the realization that is exactly why Sunshine was the bearer of his bad news. He was fucked and he knew it. Flower was out, he needed a new second. It couldn't be Beau, though he was the obvious choice. It couldn't be Paulie because that hadn't worked out the first time. It couldn't be Sid since he already had an intricate star on his shoulder to match Geno’s (supposedly). Olli was too new for this. Who the fuck did that leave?


	2. The Caecius Pentagonal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short and a lot of information but I needed to get from point A to point B and a line is the quickest way to do that. If you catch any inconsistencies or want to say anything, there is a very special section down below.  
> Also, if, now that you know what you're getting into, you'd like to beta, feel free to hit me up! I'd be more than happy to share this with you!  
> Now on with the show!

Kristopher ‘Tanger’ Letang had a hard night. He was currently lying in bed across from his beautiful Flower. He had been awoken by the memories replaying in his dreams. The loudness and darkness had seemed oppressive. Even awake, the memories wouldn’t leave him.

He had slept in until they had to prepare to get on the road to the next city. They were on a road trip and it was going to be a long one. All the way down the west coast only to swoop back up through Middle America to the northeast. Though he couldn’t complain; hockey was his true love. He did wish it didn’t fuck with his business though.

Constantly being away from the center of operations wasn’t ever good. There was no guarantee his employees could hold down the fort, keep operations in order, collect the money, and not get arrested or leave any clues for police to find. Something always went wrong when he and the team were out. And it was Kris’ job to clean up the mess. The team, the Penguins, his teammates, his subordinates, all sort of overlapped. Not everyone on the sports team was part of the Caecius Pentagonal, but damn near everyone knows what they do.

The Caecius Pentagonal, also called the Wind, is 85% of the underground in Pittsburgh. The other 15% is all the small time traffickers. They do everything from drugs and false identification to hits and hacking and cracking computer codes. And he, Kristopher Letang, heads it all. He doesn’t actually do much, he sits around in meetings and signs off on large money transfers. He’s well trained, but doesn’t get in many fights. That goes for most of the sports team who were involved.

The members of the team in the Wind included most of the French-Canadians and Europeans. The rest of Canadians and Americans and the prized Russian knew but kept their noses, rightfully, in their own dirty business. There were always suspicions on Geno’s relation with the Bratva, but no one really cares enough to fuck with what they could possibly get into to check.

The Wind had approached Geno about a position and he had declined and that was the end of it. The Wind approaches everyone after their second year on the team. If they decline, they are never approached again. If they except, they are trained in mostly hand to hand combat and marksmanship. They are never not protected. After they are accepted into the fold they are given a ring. They may wear it on a necklace, toe, or finger.

These rings are most commonly found clinking against golden crosses. This silver ring is laser inscribed with the saying _‘God made man; Samuel Colt made them equal.’_


	3. Some Beezwax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terrible at breaking up stories into manageable chunks. I ask forgiveness and that's about it. I hope you all enjoy! I promise there will be smexy-ness and more violence down the way!

The latest happening of Mr. Kristopher Letang, was the heading of the trade regulation negotiations with the Swedish Iranians of Black Cobra. And having to up and leave in the middle of negotiations had upset them. They had understood after a simple Google search, but they were still, understandably, upset.

Caecius had been building an international reputation. They were known. And after a while of being in the fold, the cute Bennett kid on a west coast trip had introduced Tanger to a few of the active gangs in LA. Letang had met with members of the Black Dragon Triad and had started negotiations about trade links and member swaps. Currently there were several of the Dragons working for him and several Winds working for the Triad. It was a productive partnership. Until last night.

Last night was a game in LA. They beat the Kings with an east 5-1 and Tanger slipped out after a while of drinking with the team when he and Flower shared a look. They had a meeting to be at. They were meeting with the new recruits of the Triad and some of their ranking leaders and visiting the Wind Dragons, the member of the Pentagonal who work for the Triad, currently.

It was going as the Triad and he had agreed until the police raided the warehouse they were touring. The SWAT team had apparently set up shop and was waiting until they had them where they wanted them to act. The Black Dragon Task Force had been privy to what was supposed to be a quiet reboot after the mass case in 2002. There would be hell to pay for whoever let that cat out of the bag.

The Triad was quick to draw their guns and Flower immediately moved towards Tanger. The precariously balanced relaxation of the night quickly tripped and all pretenses were cut with a blade. No one had drawn fire yet and it was beginning to look more and more standoff like. It was time for the East Wind to blow Flower and Tanger out and away.

Flower started talking in quiet, rapid French and saying there was a door to their left and if they were quick and silent they could make it. This plan was contingent on SWAT not being outside, which was unlikely, though they hadn’t heard the customary ‘perimeter secured’ that came with teams being at every entrance and exit. If they wanted the infinitesimally small chance of this plans success they had to act quickly.

Most of the SWAT teams focus was on the Big Dragon and not on them. Tanger started to pull Flower towards the side door when shots erupted. Not necessarily in their direction but if they drew any attention to themselves the direction would change. They had three options: stay still, run towards the door and cover themselves, or open fire back.

They couldn’t stay still for a prolonged period of time, so that was out. Outcome- eventual firefight. Running towards the door would draw attention and that really wasn’t the greatest response, but this would mean they wouldn’t have to open fire until attention was drawn. Outcome- delayed firefight. Opening fire would draw the most attention and paint them target so that was definitely out. Outcome- immediate firefight.

Delaying bullet waste was the best, immediate option. And so Tanger and Flower took off for the door. They were eighty percent of the way there before they drew any fire. They weren’t hit until Flower stumbled over a discarded piece of metal on the warehouse floor. He was grazed on his glove side by a bullet. It left a shallow crevice in his upper arm. It would bleed. A lot. They needed to get out quickly.

Flower stumbled when he was hit but Tanger managed to pull him along, get the door open, haul their asses outside, and shut the door in one breath. Shit. Flower was quickly paling and his shirt shined in the street lights eerie shadows. They needed to leave before SWAT found them and found out who they were. It would be all over if the police found out anything about who they were, what they were doing, and why they were there.

“Flower, we need to get out of here.” Kristopher whispered to Marc-Andre as he leaned against the aluminum of the warehouse. “We need to get you fixed up.”

Flower tried pushing off the wall and succeed in only falling back against it because, shit, he really had lost a lot of blood and he was chasing consciousness on a secondly basis. Tanger pulled Flower into his arms, completely disregarding his own clothing as they became bloodied with his Flower’s nectar. Tanger fixed Marc-Andre’s body to his and started to walk away from the building towards another of the warehouses in the district. They needed help. They needed a little Sunshine.

At this moment in time, Sunshine, one mister Beau Bennett, was enjoying a night on the town with the boys. He knew that Tanger and Flower had gone out on official business. He reasoned it was with the gangs he introduced Kris to a while ago. He also reasoned that they were fine since it wasn’t spectacularly late and all the bars were still open. Sunshine might hide his naturally shady disposition, but it certainly didn’t hide his keen intelligence.

Sunshine had been approached with an offer to join the Fold when he was 21 and had originally laughed at the offer. Kris had however, seen a sharp glint in his eye. He was so amused that he figured it was a joke until the sharp glint prompted Kris to pull a GLOCK from his waistband and asked if it was real. Beau looked at it, and him, for a minute with a calculating gaze hidden under the guise of curiosity.

He looked in all the right places to determine if a gun was real and Kris immediately caught this, although he said nothing. After a minute Sunshine looked up and said it was real. The soft edges of his features melted off his face and the sharp, intelligent young man emerged. He made sure Kris was seriously asking him to join. He asked ‘why him’ and Kris explained. Everyone was offered a spot; Kris was an equal opportunity kind of guy. And for whatever reason, the gaze shifted from sharp to razor and Sunshine agreed.

He was immediately sent off to the usual combat trainer. Sunshine must have had some kind of martial arts training prior because he progressed rapidly. His marksmanship was always a little shaky, but his intellect easily made up for that tenfold. He was part of the generation that didn’t know what life was like without instant internet access. Beau grew up getting around age blocks and firewalls. And now he was in charge of the tech department and also Tanger and Flower’s right hand man.

He was the cute office secretary who packed heat and would blow your head off if you tried to hit on him. He was especially cold to women who hit on him whom he didn’t know. He reserved a small part of his heart for romance, though most of his heart belonged to hockey and working for Caecius. True to form, his romantic interest largely overlapped with hockey and the Fold. When not squeezing his adorable ass in between Tanger and Flower, he was known to sit a little close to Geno and Sid, sometimes both of them. Hell knew what was going on there.

Sunshine would never tell anyone, but the reason he was involved with the Triad when still living in California was that they had saved his life and he owed them a life debt. He repaid that debt by introducing the Caecius Pentagonal to the Black Dragon Triad. He maintains a good working relation with them and that is partially why he keeps the ties so close.

But that is not what is relevant now. Mr. Sunshine was out on the town, assuming his bosses were doing fine with the Triad meeting. Until he got a call from one panicking Kristopher Letang. All the Tanger said was that there was a Code Magenta in the warehouse district and the exact address of where he and Flower were. The rest was a mess of half sobbing French. As hard as Beau tried to understand and learn French for his teammates, he was just never any good at acquiring other languages; he was good at his beloved English.

His gaze sharpened and he was lucky that he hadn’t drunk that much that night. He was also lucky that he didn’t catch any of his teammate’s attention with that quick switch in his demeanor. At least, he didn’t think he did. Olli caught it, but he knew better than to say anything and went back to quietly sipping his drink as he watched Beau leave to go back to this evening’s hotel.

Once Sunshine was back in his room, he grabbed his travel bag and unlatched the bottom compartment to grab the keys he kept with him on west coast trips to his sports car that was kept in his parent’s garage when he wasn’t home. He grabbed those, his fake ID, his GLOCK, and his wallet and keycard and was out the door. He needed his car back.


End file.
